Revival (and not of the tent variety, either)

So it is with me. I'm here, then I disappear for days (or weeks), then I pop back in again. And so on, and so forth.

I've mostly spent the past few weeks wallowing in my own self-despair, trying to maintain a toehold on my good habits while shamefully indulging in the bad ones. Fortunately, I think it's all come to a head at last, and I may be getting my groove back.

Yesterday, I had good intentions--but they were thwarted by a co-worker who felt a need to bring bagels in for breakfast. Still, I limited myself to a plain one with lite cream cheese, and I stuck to that. We ordered in pizza for lunch, and there was cake to further celebrate a couple of department birthdays--I had probably the equivalent of 2-3 slices and one small square of cake. I told the husband I wouldn't be eating dinner, but I had a very small plate--about a cup of spaghetti with 3-4 meatballs and some marinara.

I had planned to go to the gym and spend 45 minutes on the stair climber. No small feat, considering I've been pushing it just to get through 20 minutes on that thing lately, and I slept wrong Wednesday night so my left shoulder/neck had been tied up in knots and hurt like hell all day. When I got to the gym, the stairs were all available, but I didn't really want to do the stairs. I wanted something faster-paced, something more challenging, something that felt like I was really doing something (I know the stairs are challenging and really doing something but humor me, okay?). So I climbed on a treadmill.

I walked for 5 minutes and then started to run. And I wanted to quit almost immediately, but I told myself, "self, I'm sick of listening to you whine like a bitch. You CAN run, and you WILL run, because you SHOULD run, and you're going to shut the fuck up and just RUN, dammit."

And run, I did. I stopped three or 4 times to walk for a minute, but no longer than a minute, and then I was back running. And I didn't stop until I'd gone 4.6 miles, 51 minutes, 513 calories (according to the treadmill) burned.

I was sweating like a beast, my legs felt like jello, and I was thinking "this is going to hurt tomorrow," but dammit, I did it, and I felt awesome. But I didn't stop there--oh, no. On to the mat for pushups (real pushups), 5 sets of 10, and crunches (about 60 or so).

Then I stopped.

And I felt like I had regained my badassness.

So today, same story--I'm not going to listen to myself whine like a bitch anymore. Go hard or go home, pussy. Eat right, drink water, do a repeat performance at the gym tonight, and quit that fuckin' cryin'. So far, so good. Some asshole brought donuts to work this morning--DUNKIN Donuts, mind you--and I've decided to pass in favor of my oatmeal with a tablespoon of peanut butter. Ha. And you know what? I don't feel deprived. I don't feel like I'm being cheated out of a good time because it's just a fucking donut. It's not like you're cheating yourself out of a trip to Disneyland or something.

Three cheers for me, and for all the other trying-to-behave bloggers out there who seem to also be pulling out of their (our) collective funk. Really makes me wonder if there's some weird seasonal, weather-related, cosmic shift going on that's had us all wigging out. Whatever it is, I hope it's on its way out the door.